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Sometimes I like to imagine myself in a world where I’m not being
berated by the person cutting my hair. Perhaps, “Wow, it’s really
really fine” would be replaced by “I’ve never felt such soft hair!” or
“Can I top off your champagne?”… Call me crazy, but someday I’d like
to be wealthy enough to pay to have a stylist lie to me. I know my
hair is fine, thin and lifeless, thankyouverymuch. And, no I have
not ‘treated’ it in awhile which is why I have roots the size of Texas
(no offense, lonestar) and split ends for days. I’m pretty much only
getting a haircut today because I didn’t feel like washing and drying my own hair. It’s exhausting; all for the same end result- thin and lifeless.

Of course, I didn’t say any of this. I even politely nodded when he
exclaimed, “No body! No body at all!” while trying to give my hair some shape with a round brush and a hair dryer. I almost apologized. This was clearly traumatic for him.

After a few more mumblings and an apology for pulling my hair (it was
my fault because my hair was too fine for a detangler) he turned me to
the mirror and to my surprise he actually gave me a great cut. It has
movement, bounce, dare I say, LIFE?? I was visibly happy even as he
closed with, “Well, we did the best we could, right?”